BunkBlog

We spent all of five minutes on the island of Cozumel, all of it standing in line to move to the ferry or racing back to the ship after the ferry dropped us off in the evening. Our ferry is the yellow catamaran on the right of this photo, while our ship (the Conquest) is attempting to hide behind the Triumph over on the left.

We had a great historical tour today, with our guide Manuel being a magnificent source of information on all things Mayan. This guy is a college-educated archaeologist/historian, and he was a delight to listen to. I’ve never seen a tour guide who so completely knew and obviously loved the material he was presenting. Anyway, we went to the ruins of the city of Tulum, an hour or so inland from the port of Playa del Carmen. The ruins have been restored and preserved very well, and the vast numbers of temples in such a small area was almost overwhelming. The equally vast numbers of iguanas was fascinating to one member of our couple (I’ll leave it to the reader to determine who that was).

We did do a little shopping, including picking up a Mayan cartouche and a couple blankets and t-shirts. Of course, we arrived at the ship just before it was time to leave, so no shopping in Cozumel itself.

Yesterday was our thrill ride tour, today was our nature tour. The weather was beginning to look a little wet, due to what had just become Tropical Storm Paloma. There was rain on the ship as we docked, and the ground was wet on the pier when we hit land, but the rain that threatened us all day didn’t arrive. We wandered around the three shops that were open in the port of George Town, then hopped on a bus to hit our several destinations for the day.

We stopped in a tiny little tourist trap area named Hell. It is a bunch of very dangerous-looking rocks that have been colored black over time, and the locals have put up a post office that sells Hell postcards and will even mail them so they’ll have a postmark from Hell.

After Hell, we hit the road to one of the many many Tortuga rum and rum cake outlets. Since they had the same prices and selection as the one at the pier, we decided to not haul a bunch of rum cake around Grand Cayman. The Turtle Farm is a fabulous place, with a truly astounding number of sea turtles in their tanks. This place is not just a tourist attraction, but keeps a breeding program going as well. Of the hundreds of turtles that hatch each year, over 10% are released into the ocean, while 70% are kept as part of the exhibit and breeding program. The other 20%? Um, they generally become soup. Sorry animal lovers. Sadly, we didn’t get to spend nearly enough time at the turtle farm, because we had a schedule to keep. We did meet our friend Flappy there – he really wanted to get back in the water.

Then, it was time for the main event, the grand finale, the claim to fame of the island of Grand Cayman – the Stingray Sandbar. This is a truly amazing location, out in the bay off the northern coast of the island. For many years, fishermen would stop here, in this relatively calm and very shallow area far from shore, to clean their catch. After so many years of free fish, the stingrays on the sandbar are nearly tame. We swam with them, pet them, fed them, even got to hold them. Absolutely one of the best experiences ever. We couldn’t understand why there were several able-bodied people who paid for this tour and refused to get in the water. Mystifying.

We ran around George Town for about an hour, picking up souvenirs and the freebies that the jewelry shops seem intent on handing out, then back to the ship. The ship left an hour earlier than originally planned, due to what had now become Hurricane Paloma.

Back aboard, we had a couple hours of down time, and then the second Formal Night. Some folks seem to have a very relaxed definition of formal; the table next to us had a gentleman in a rather formless flannel shirt. He sure looked comfortable, anyway. Baked Alaska for dessert, first time Kat had tried the dish.

We really loaded ourselves down with shore excursions – only at the Caymans did we have even an hour of time between the tour and the time we needed to get on the ship. Not complaining, just explaining the relative lack of photos of the towns we were ostensibly docked at or near.

We went on the Zipline Adventure today. This involves climbing up hills in order to rocket from treetop to treetop to ridgeline via steel cables and pulleys. We had a great trio of guides to keep us safe and entertained. Hollywood was the leader of the pack, with his constant patter of “bing bong, party like a rock stah!”

Mighty Mouse and Dean were the other two guides, but I didn’t get good photos of them. Mighty Mouse (real name Shakila) insisted that we were lucky because we had the pretty guide. Gotta love confidence.

After climbing and zipping for the better part of two hours, we wandered back to the ship for a supposedly relaxing massage. Our two South African masseuses apparently didn’t get that memo. We felt like we’d been tenderized by the time they were done, but Kat (former massage therapist) complimented them on their technique.

A great dinner of smoked duck appetizers (tastes like ham!) and seafood newburg, and then off to the magic gymnast show. We wandered into the showroom, thinking we were early, and most of the good seats were taken. Then, one of the crew handed us VIP seating, marked as “just because,” and we got to sit so close we could see pores on the dancers.

Another day at sea, with the temperatures climbing into the low 80s today.

We really just relaxed around the ship most of the day. We did win an 80s trivia game and got a little plastic trophy for our efforts. And we lost at bingo, cuz mostly that’s what happens at bingo.  That’s about it, really.

Our first morning aboard the ship was great.  It didn’t get above 75 today, but it was still a very pleasant day. We had breakfast with some Texans and a Canuck chef, then sat near the bow and read. We had a little wine-tasting, which was marred only slightly by a table near us which seemed to be surprised we were interrupting their rather boisterous conversation with some sort of wine-related event.

Dinner included lobster, where they sang a happy honeymoon song to us, and we finished the evening with a drink while listening to a jazz trio. They were very good, and Kat seemed to really appreciate the drummer, having been one herself.

We are, as I write this, on the first sea day of our honeymoon cruise. We’ll be arriving in Jamaica on Wednesday, then Grand Cayman Thursday and Cozumel on Friday. We left from the still-devastated Galveston on Sunday afternoon; the ship left two hours late because it had to drop passengers from the previous week in Houston (where the cruise had been operating from while Galveston got back in order enough for the cruises even if not for their own residents).

So far, it’s been gorgeous and fun. There are a suprisingly large number of Texans on the ship, but we did have breakfast with a Canuck as well, and a wine tasting with a couple from Iowa. And several couples from Texas. 🙂

Not sure how often this will get updated before the 10th of November, but I’ll try to post at least once more this week. No photos before we return, though.

536 days after we met, Kat and I are getting married on October 31st. We’re happy to share this time of our lives with each of you, and anyone who is in San Angelo (or wants to trek here) is invited to share in some sort of shindig that our good friend Dora is throwing for us on the afternoon of November 15th. Dora rocks.

We’re leaving town as soon as we can, heading for a great cruise of the Caribbean.  We’ll be zip-lining through the trees in Jamaica, swimming with turtles and sting rays in the Cayman Islands, and touring the ruins of Tulum near Cozumel.

If you don’t feel you can attend the shindig, just know that all of you are in our hearts.  Many of you had to tolerate our dating from afar stage, some people graciously helped Kat escape Lubbock and move to what is now our cozy home.  We have wonderful friends all over the States and you are welcome to share in our joy.  No gifts necessary, just come to raise a toast.

Love to all, Gary and Kat

I still haven’t quite gotten through the last of the Baroque Cycle (I’m around page 2000), but I breezed through Anathem‘s 900+ pages in just a few days. Stephenson’s latest novel shows that he is capable of writing an ending, and he even dialed back the rampant exposition a bit. He added a few appendices to address that, but at least it didn’t interrupt the flow. The story of a non-religious “concent” (convent) that is filled with men and women who take themselves out of mainstream society for years to study science and philosophy…well, it’s a bit convoluted, isn’t it? Anyway, it ends up a good adventure involving all sorts of complicated cosmology and cosmogony and philosophy and even a little math and tiling problems. Very cool book. If you enjoyed Cryptonomicon or Snow Crash or any of Stephenson’s earlier novels, get it and read it. If you haven’t read Stephenson, understand that he’s long-winded and this book even includes a couple of extra languages. See below:

Once again, we are shown how easily the McCain/Palin campaign can relate to the average American voter. Yep. Obama is such an elitist, with his one house and paying for his own clothing.

The Republican National Committee spent about $150,000 on clothing, hair styling, makeup and other “campaign accessories” in September for the McCain campaign after Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin joined the ticket as his running mate.

More detail
You’d think this sort of thing would be illegal. Thanks to the campaign finance reform laws backed by Senator McCain over the years, it is illegal for the campaign to spend this sort of money on personal services for a candidate. Fortunately for the campaign, McCain’s bills never included a mention of the National Committee being prohibited from spending that money. Good for them.

He’s nine?  How the heck did that happen?

First of all, I love this squirrel:

That little critter is the only mammal at the Nature Center that tries to escape through the roof of its cage. We start humming the Mission Impossible theme music whenever we see him.

Alex’s love of all things military continues, so even though he asked for a birthday party with lots of animals, he still got this cake:

He loved wearing the snake and was great with the tarantula:

More photos in the gallery, as usual.

Kat coerced three other Nature Center folks to help with the party (a task which is usually relegated to just Kat), so the kids got to see over a dozen animals, and everyone was able to touch and hold them. A few animals were brought out that have never been brought to a party or event before – Kat rocks.

Alex has had a pretty good year, with his trips to several Eastern states, a trip to ride nearly every roller coaster at Fiesta Texas, Schlitterbahn, lots of toys, games, and just a lucky time for the boy. Fortunately, he’s also a great kid. Every time I have other children his age over for dinner, I’m reminded again how well Alex’s mother and I have done in instilling a modicum of manners and not instilling a distrust of vegetables and “weird” food.  He loves to try new things, and although I may want to strangle him some days, I’m very happy that he’s in my life.  Happy Birthday, boy.

What is with the constant repitition of the term “repudiate” this week? It sounds remarkably like the old Nazi/Communist concept of “denouncing” your friends or family in order to prove your ideological purity. What happened to this country?

According to this ABC report, a Reserve linguist is blabbing about some NSA program that targeted Americans.  I sure hope that she is being covered by some sort of Congressional exemption, cuz otherwise she’s kind of violating one of those NDAs like the one I signed this morning (probably the twentieth or more identical form I’ve signed over the years).  Strange that there’s no specific statement that the “whistleblower” is protected that way, but I guess journalists don’t have the same focus as intel geeks.

It’s too bad there’s only one VP debate this year.  I figure a drinking game would be a great addition to any rematch.  Every time Biden quotes a McCain vote that contradicts McCain’s rhetoric, drink.  Every time Palin drops the trailing “g” on any “ing” word, drink.  Every time Palin says “maverick” – shot!  Any time either candidate fully answers the question posed without wandering into completely unrelated territory – everyone drinks!  Fortunately, there’s not much chance of that last one…

Has there been an actual debate, as we would know the event from high school or college debating teams, in the history of televised Presidential debates?  You know, where there are rules that the debaters can violate, such as “not answering the question posed?”  Without procedural rules and the voting from a group of disinterested people, the term “debate” becomes a bit silly.  Both sides can claim to win, and depending on how low we set the bar, we can all agree that both sides “won” a contest that has no score.  *sigh*

In April, the contract I have been working on for five years was due to be renewed.  Instead, the government extended it until the end of June.  June came around, and the contract got extended until the end of August, while the contract bid process was finally begun.  At the end of August, no contract was awarded, and thus began a joyful process of “guess what is happening in contractland.” Shoe number one hit the floor with a hollow thud.

Every week, a tale regarding exactly what rumor was ascendant was passed around. The next week, a completely new and different tale would be exchanged. You can imagine how much fun was had by all. During this time, we all nominally continued to be employed, but without any job site to go to had to make do with our saved vacation time in order to qualify for paychecks. Fortunately, I had over a month of vacation time saved up, so I weathered September without a problem. Many of my coworkers were on “Leave Without Pay” status for much of the month. Fat lot of good it does to be hypothetically employed, if you can’t use that hypothesis to pay bills.

We all knew our company was a shoo-in for the new contract. We’re the incumbents, have been doing the job for over a decade, have a good rapport with the customer, and have such a great understanding of the local realities that our bid must have been among the lowest. We also knew the contract had to be awarded by the end of Fiscal Year 2008 (that would be the 30th of September). Imagine my surprise to get a call on the 29th of September that said we didn’t get the contract. Shoe number two squashed something. Fortunately, the new overlords will be hiring all of us worker bees to work the new contract, since they have exactly zero local employees to do the work themselves. Now, to prepare for an interview with the new employer. Yes, I have to interview for a job I’ve held for five years. Yay.

I do not think it means what you think it means.

(H/T to danielmedic)

July 11th, 2008 – US Government seizes control of IndyMac, largest S&L in Los Angeles and 7th largest mortgage company in the USA.

September 7th, 2008 – US Government acquires control of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, two largest mortgage backers in the USA.

September 16th, 2008 – US Government acquires 80% control of AIG, largest insurance company in the USA.

The great and mighty Siberian husky, Banshee, defended the family from a giant polar bear this morning.  Well, not so much “defended” as “cowered in front of” and not so much “polar bear” as “painted sheep statue.”  But, it was a great adventure regardless.

After the Sheeptacular in October 2007, many of these decorated sheep appeared around town:

One of them was on our walking path this morning.  The dogs were pretty sure it was a giant monster that was going to eat them.

Another great example of how people who are not, by any reasonable definition, wealthy are somehow able to be convinced to support something which is not in their own self-interest.  If you make less than $111,000 per year, why would you support the plan on the left over the plan on the right?  You prefer to give your tax money to rich people, rather than keep it yourself?  Amazing.

Edit: This all assumes, for good historical reason, that the gummint isn’t planning to reduce spending, and therefore the total revenue needs to remain somewhat static.

This seems a bit over-the-top, even for crazy people.  So, I’m curious if any Alaskans (Lorri?) have any insight as to whether the story in LA Progressive has the ring of truth or just hatchet job.